


Where He Belongs

by orphan_account



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Drama, Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-12
Updated: 2009-02-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The glamor has faded and Justin realizes that New York isn't where he belongs.





	Where He Belongs

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or any of the characters/places/names used within. I do not make any money from this work. All of Queer as Folk and its universe belong to CowLip, Showtime, and their known associates.

"Justin!"  
  
I turned just as I was about to walk into the diner. I half-smile; I haven't smiled a lot since I left for New York and can't remember the last time I gave anyone my full sunshine smile to anyone, even when I talk to Brian over the phone. I waited for him to catch up to me. "Hey, Em."  
  
He hugged me. "Hey, baby. How are you?"  
  
I shrugged. "I'm good. You?"  
  
He smiled his smug smile. "I'm great. How was New York?"  
  
"Let's go in and we'll talk, okay?" I asked.  
  
He nodded. "All right. Sounds good."  
  
"Sunshine!" Debbie called. She put the plates down for the couple she was serving and pulled me into one of her engulfing hugs.  
  
"Hey, Debbie," I said.  
  
She pulled back and looked me up and down, looking for any signs of mistreatment. Always looking out for me. For all of us. "All right. What's the matter?"  
  
"What?" I asked, trying to keep away the questions I knew would come eventually.  
  
"I'm coming!" she called to the cook and then turned back to me. She pointed a finger at me. "You better be at my house for dinner tonight. I know it's not yet Christmas, but I want to talk to you. Eight o'clock. Got it?"  
  
I nodded. "Fine."  
  
She smiled. "See ya!"  
  
I shook my head as I walked to a table with Em. "She's still the same."  
  
"Well, what do you expect sweetie?" Em said. "It's only been a few months."  
  
I laughed. "Yeah, I know. It feels like it's been longer."  
  
"Been that busy?" he asked.  
  
"Sort of," I said. I took my coat off and sat in a booth.  
  
Em eyed me. "You know that I never am one to pry into your life, but I am very curious. What's wrong?"  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing. Really."  
  
Em sighed. "I bet it has something to do with Brain." He smirked.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Why does everyone assume that when I'm down it has something to do with Brian?"  
  
"Because it usually does," Debbie said as she came up to us to take our order.  
  
I glared at her. "It does not."  
  
She put her hand on her hip. "Oh? Name one instance?"  
  
I thought about it. "Ethan."  
  
"Nice try," Emmet said, "You went with Ethan because Brain wasn't romantic enough for you and you left Ethan because he wasn't Brian."  
  
"You all presume too much," I said.  
  
"He's right, you know," Michael said as he joined us. "There was a lot more going on with Ethan than just Brian."  
  
"Thank you," I said, glad for the first time that Michael had known what had happened then.  
  
"How long have you been in town?" he asked.  
  
"A few hours," I answered. "I just put my stuff into Daphne's spare room and needed a bite to eat."  
  
"All right then," Debbie said. "What will you have?"  
  
We gave her our orders and she left. Em returned to patronizing me. "Has your art work not been selling?"  
  
I shrugged. "It's been selling but not as fast as was promised."  
  
"But there have been numerous articles raving about your work," Michael said, confused. "Brian gives us copies every time he finds them."  
  
I smirked thinking about that. I was sort of surprised, but after that last night together, it wasn't so much of a shock. "They may be raving about me, but that doesn't mean that they're buying. Like I told Lindsy when she showed me the first article, I think that they're busy admiring my ass and not my work."  
  
Em laughed. "Well, it still is a great ass."  
  
I smiled. "Thanks."  
  
"So did you have to get a day job?" Michael asked.  
  
I nodded. "Yep. I returned to the service industry and became a busboy. It helped pay the rent several times."  
  
"You know Brian and your mom never mentioned that second job," Em said, trying to wheedle me out of more information than I felt comfortable with.  
  
"I didn't want anyone to worry," I said, "and I'm only telling you guys because I know that you won't bother me about it. Brian would have been sending me money if I had told him and so would have my mom. I don't need the help. I was doing fine."  
  
Em didn't look convinced and neither did Michael, but neither of them pushed the issue. I changed the subject before they could ask more questions.  
  
v^v^v^  
  
I arrived early at Debbie's house and found that it was only her and I who would be eating. She said that she wanted to talk to me alone. I knew that was never a good sign. When Debbie talked to me without anyone else in the same room, I knew I would be in for a lecture, even if it was only a sentence or two. No one could give a talk like Debbie could. I hoped that she wouldn't be shocked by the news of what was happening in New York, if I even told her.  
  
I had found out within a month that New York wasn't as spectacular as it was made out to be. Unless you were rich. I hadn't been expecting to live as I had with Brian, but nothing would be as good as that, not with the money he made nor with the love we had shared. But the apartment I had finally found for myself made the one I had here in Pittsburgh look like a palace. Since I hadn't been able to afford both a studio and the rent I was paying to room with my friend, I had to find my own place, where I could spread out and paint without paying double. After the initial months, my art sold less and I had to find the extra job. Good thing I all ready had a couple years experience working at the diner. But even with the extra job, there were some days that I ate only a can of soup.  
  
I knew that I should have told them what was going on. But Brian had so much hope in me. And I had a lot of hope in me. I could do this. I could. I didn't need help.  
  
Debbie had made a small feast and I knew that she had seen how malnourished I had been. I winced inside, but ate the food at a slow pace, so she wouldn't know how hungry I actually was. We made small talk through most of the meal, but as we were finishing, Debbie started in.  
  
"So, how was New York?" she asked.  
  
"Fine," I told her. "It was everything I expected it to be."  
  
She nodded in her way of saying that she knew otherwise. "Uh-huh. Tell me the truth, Sunshine."  
  
I shrugged my shoulders. "That is the truth."  
  
"No, it's not," she said, pointing her finger at me. "I have known you for five years, kid, and I have seen you through your best and worst. If you hadn't seen Brian in months, I'd be over there with him, telling him what an ass he is. But since you haven't seen him or any of us, I know for a fact that there is something wrong back north."  
  
I sighed. "It's nothing, Debbie. Everything is fine, I assure you."  
  
"You better tell me what or so help me, I will get everyone to find out what's wrong," she warned.  
  
I closed my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"You have to talk to some one eventually," she said. "I could feel your ribs poking through your skin when I hugged you in the diner. Your malnourished and you haven't smiled that brilliant sunshine smile that I give you credit for. Something has gone wrong and you can't keep it from your family."  
  
I stood and shook my head. "I can't tell you, Debbie. I can't." I grabbed my coat on my way out and left.  
  
v^v^v^  
  
Poppers was still in business and I quickly lost myself in the crowd. I can make it in New York. I just needed to hold out a little longer. Things would work out. I knew they would.  
  
I bumped into Ted with Blake and put on my facade. "Hey."  
  
"Hey you," Ted said. "What are you doing back here?"  
  
"Christmas," I said, "Debbie would never let me miss it."  
  
Ted nodded. "Of course."  
  
"Hey--you seen Brian?" I asked. He had to be here. It was past ten.  
  
"Well, it's Friday so I'd say he's at the house," Ted said.  
  
"The house?" I asked. I thought he would have sold the house. It was our place, after all. I didn't think he would have kept it when we broke off the engagement.  
  
"Yeah," Ted said. "The one he bought for you. He goes there on the weekends."  
  
"By himself?" I asked.  
  
Ted nodded. "Yeah, surprising, isn't it? He hasn't been with anyone since you left."  
  
I shook my head. "I don't believe it."  
  
"Better believe it," Em said, joining us. "You left and half of him went with you. He's been moping around for the most part."  
  
"Until he gets a letter from you or sees another art article involving you," Ted said.  
  
"Em, could you--" I started to ask.  
  
Em smiled. "Sure thing. Come on."  
  
I smiled a little. We were soon driving out of Pittsburgh and into the countryside. Like I had felt when Brian brought me, I thought that the trip to the house was too far. I know it's only half an hour away, but it feels so far. Especially when I'm worried about Brian. Em dropped me off and left with a knowing smile. Sometimes I think that the guys know Brian and I too well.  
  
I knocked and waited anxiously. After a few minutes, I heard the lock shifting back and the door opened. Brian looked like hell. I tried to smile. "Hey."  
  
He smiled. "Hey, Sunshine."  
  
I looked him over. He didn't look as bad as I did, but I don't think anyone could look as bad as me. "Can I come in?"  
  
He stepped back. "Of course. It is your place."  
  
I raised my eyebrows, but didn't question it. I knew that no matter what, to him, the house would always belong to me. It was my palace, he had said. "I thought you sold the house when I left."  
  
He was looking me up and down with a serious expression as I removed my coat. "You want something to eat?"  
  
I was hungry again, but I shook my head. "No, it's all right. I ate at Debbie's and she gave me four servings."  
  
"I have some leftovers, come on," he said, ignoring what I said.  
  
I sighed inside. I should've known I wouldn't have been able to lie to him. He was all ready pouring some stuff onto plates to reheat by the time I got into the kitchen. "So, how are you doing?"  
  
"Shitty," he said.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Feeling the same?"  
  
He glared at me. "What gave you that idea?"  
  
I bit my lip. I didn't come for an argument. "Sorry. I was just asking."  
  
He nodded his head, dropping his anger quickly. "No, I'm sorry. I know you were just asking. How are you?"  
  
I shrugged. "Good. Same as I was in the last letter."  
  
He popped the left overs into the microwave. "You look worse than your last letter."  
  
"I'm fine, really," I told him.  
  
He walked over to me and looked into my eyes. I couldn't return the look. "You're not fine." He turned and got the plate out of the microwave. "Eat. Debbie said she could feel your ribs when she hugged you."  
  
I should have known that Debbie would have told him all ready. I sat at the breakfast bar and ate the food. I didn't even notice what it was. "So?"  
  
"You've always had a healthy appetite," he pointed out.  
  
"I've just had a little trouble finding decent food in New York," I lied. "Most of the groceries I found were crawling with roaches."  
  
He sat next to me. "I'm sure there was one decent place."  
  
I shrugged. "There was."  
  
"So why didn't you eat?" he asked.  
  
"Nevermind," I said.  
  
He pulled the plate away. "What's been going on?"  
  
I folded my arms on top of the counter and looked away. "It's nothing."  
  
"It's always been nothing," he said. "You've said it too often when it is something. I know you better than that. What is going on?"  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing I can't handle."  
  
He turned the stool, surprising me. "Obviously it isn't. Why do you look worse than a Picasso painting?"  
  
I closed my eyes. "Just a little money shortage. That's all. The paintings weren't selling so hot the last two months."  
  
He put his hand on my ribs. "That's more than two months loss."  
  
"Doesn't matter."  
  
He cupped my cheek in his hand. "Why are you lying and keeping secrets?"  
  
"I can handle it," I said. "It's nothing for anyone to trouble with."  
  
"So why aren't you telling anyone?" he asked pointedly.  
  
God, he was getting to me. I hadn't counted on this. I had thought that the years we had been together would have been enough for me to visit him and not break down. "I don't want anyone to know."  
  
"Not even me?" he asked, hurt.  
  
"I need to do this, Brian," I said, "and I can do this."  
  
"Do what? Starve yourself?"  
  
"Not that. Make it. Become a famous artist."  
  
"At the expense of your health?"  
  
I shook my head. "It's not like that."  
  
"Then what is it like?"  
  
I bit my lip. I couldn't say anymore. If I did, he would know. And I didn't want him to know. "Never mind."  
  
He put his hands on my shoulders. "Just tell me, Justin. What has been happening in New York?"  
  
I felt a few tears leak out my eyes. "The same thing as Hollywood."  
  
"They don't like you any more?"  
  
I finally looked at him. I had passed the point where I had to keep this up. He knew now. "It was fine the first weeks. But after the initial welcome wore out, I suddenly found myself at a loss. I sold maybe a painting a day. I had to get a second job to pay the rent."  
  
"So why did you stop eating?"  
  
"I didn't stop eating. Just not the same as always. I needed the money to pay the rent and get art supplies."  
  
"Why didn't you say something?"  
  
"I couldn't. New York was my best chance, the place where I was going to make it. I had to."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To prove that I could!" I paused and shook my head. The tears were coming faster. "All my adult life, I've been dependent on everyone in my life. Dependent on you. New York was my chance to prove that I could do it by myself."  
  
He looked so hurt. Shocked, too. He stood and hugged me. That did it. I completely broke down. But I kept talking. Because that was just half of it. New York had been great and I had never seen any such a place. Except that it had been so lonely. I had tried to make it all right. But I had my job and art and shows and galleries. There had been no time. I had missed my home, my friends, my family, Brian. I told him this. Or I tried to. I don't know how much I got out in-between sobbing.  
  
After I had calmed down, I realized that he had gotten me into the living room and was holding me to his chest as we reclined back against the couch. I stared into the fire, tired as hell. "I'm sorry, Brian."  
  
"No, don't be," he said. "I understand."  
  
"I should have told you," I stated. "I shouldn't have tried so hard to do this myself."  
  
"I don't know if they're going to understand," he said. "Especially Debbie. But I do. I did the same thing when I left college. Had to do it all by myself and prove that I didn't need anyone."  
  
I sighed. "I'm going back."  
  
He was silent. Then: "No, you're not. I won't let you."  
  
I shook my head. "I have to."  
  
He tightened his arms around me, probably to keep me from running from him. "You don't need to die from malnourishment and loneliness and depression in New York to prove that you can. I'm not saying that you should stay here with me. But find an apartment here. Continue with your art. Just because it's not New York doesn't mean anything."  
  
I knew what he was saying, but I knew that I needed to go back there. Although I really couldn't say why. Maybe it was only being this close to him again.  
  
"I think what you need to do, Sunshine, is decide if you really want to be there, if it really is what you want. That's what it comes down to. As a person who knows you better than you know yourself, I know that you go through phases where you want to do one thing and decide that it's not right or something happens that makes it impossible for you to stay. There's only two things you've ever been sure of: that we love each other and your art. We know that no matter where we are, we will always love each other. As for your art, you need to decide where will be the best place for you to do your art as best you can. Whether that's Hollywood or New York or the frozen wasteland of the North Pole. It doesn't matter where that place is. So long as your art--and you--don't suffer because of it."  
  
I was too shocked to think about that. He didn't say anything more about it. "Do you need a place to stay?" he asked.  
  
I suddenly felt guilty. I hadn't yet called Daph and she was probably worried, but I also felt guilty because I should have asked Brian if I could stay with him for the holiday. "I'm staying at Daphne's."  
  
"You're imposing your sorry ass on the happy hetero couple?" he teased.  
  
I laughed. "Yeah."  
  
"You could've stayed here," he said.  
  
"I was still thinking that I was hiding out, remember?"  
  
He laughed. "Well, you're not anymore. You want to stay here instead?"  
  
I thought about it. I knew I would feel a little better when, if, I went back to New York if I stayed with him for the holiday. "Let me call Daphne."  
  
He stretched and moved a little, reaching over the sofa and got me the phone. As I dialed her number, he started to rub my shoulders. I felt my shoulders start to loosen up and I realized that I hadn't known how much stress I had put on myself. The phone rang twice. "Hello?" Daphne said.  
  
"Hey," I said.  
  
"Justin?" she asked. "You all right?"  
  
"Yeah, I am now," I said distractedly. "I'm staying with Brain, all right? I'll come get my stuff tomorrow."  
  
"All right," she said with a smile in her voice. "Come round anytime to get your stuff. I'll leave the key under the plant."  
  
"See you, Daph," I said, "and thanks."  
  
"No problem," she said. "Have fun."  
  
I laughed and hung up. I put the phone on the couch and leaned back into Brian. "Feels good."  
  
He leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I know what feels better." He snaked one hand down my chest and grabbed my balls.  
  
I jumped a little. "Everything is always better with you."  
  
"When last did you get laid?" he teased, rubbing me through my pants.  
  
"I can't remember," I admitted. Now that he mentioned it, I was trying to remember.  
  
He bit my ear. "Doesn't matter about them. How about me? Now?"  
  
"Mmm," I moaned, thrusting my hips. "Why are we wasting time then?"  
  
He let me turn around and I kissed him. It was like we had never been apart. I had remembered painfully our last night together the last months in New York. It had something that we had always had, but somehow made more by the fact that we had finally come to what we had been struggling with in our five years; Brian had admitted and said that he loved me, and I had realized that we didn't need to be married or in the same town to be in love and have our relationship. After that, we had come together and shared something that I had never thought I would ever feel, even with Brian.  
  
I left before he woke up because I knew it would have been worse if I had seen him. I didn't even eat breakfast there. I had gotten dressed, grabbed my bag, and left. It was hard enough. When Em told me that I had taken half of Brian when I left, I hadn't been phased much because I had left half of mine when I left.  
  
We had our shirts off in record time and when we kissed again, I felt like I couldn't get close enough. He pushed me onto my back and I moved a little so we would have enough room without bumping into anything or falling into the fire. He straddled my hips and unbuckled my jeans. He pulled out my cock and began to rub it.  
  
I lifted my hips, trying to get more friction, but he sat back up and stood to get out of his pants. I started to pull mine off, but he swatted my hands away. He shook his head and slowly pulled my jeans off. I tried to hurry him, but he ignored me. When he had thrown my pants over the couch, he lifted my legs and pulled me onto his lap. I smiled at him and lifted my head when he bent to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rubbed myself against his stomach. After he got the condom on, he slowly eased into me and I rode out the waves of pain of being filled for the first time since I had left. Only he could get inside me in the right way.  
  
He braced one arm on the floor and slowly began to rock. I closed my eyes and let the familiar feelings return. He was sucking on my neck and not relenting. I grabbed his shoulders, to keep him close and was kissing his shoulder. It felt like no time had passed, like we were back to where we had been before I left. He leaned back and looked down at me, into my eyes, looking into the places I had never let anyone into except him. He grabbed my cock with his free hand and I titled my head back as the waves of pleasure rode through me.  
  
"Look at me," he said.  
  
I opened my eyes and found his eyes, waiting like always. I smiled and he began to thrust faster, harder. I bit my lip and tried to keep my eyes open and locked with his. But the pleasure was so powerful, thudding through me. I reached for him and he wrapped an arm around me to hug me close. I wrapped my arms around the middle of his back and put my chin in the crook of his neck. The angle he had brushed my prostate and I could feel my orgasm threatening to close in on me.  
  
"Please," I whispered. "Come with me."  
  
He began a faster pace, one that would succeed in us coming together. He pulled back a little so he could kiss me and when he touched his tongue to mine, I was gone. I gasped and my orgasm swept through me as he tensed and came at the same moment.  
  
He collapsed on top of me and rolled to the side, pulling me with him. He smiled. "I love you."  
  
I put my hand on his cheek. "And I love you."  
  
v^v^v^  
  
I forgot how good it was with him. Hell, I even forgot how good it was to be with anyone. When he left, I knew that I would never be able to be with anyone again. I just wanted him. I had known the moment I had found out about the bombing. There was only him after that. I shocked everyone when I retired from my very active sex life, but after the shock wore off, I got those stupid looks from everyone that said they knew. God, I hated that. But I didn't mind much. It was all right. Because Rage had finally realized what he should have long ago: there was room for only one person and to make allotments for anyone else, even for sex, would never work. It was a great feeling.  
  
I felt terrible for pushing him away like I did. But that was how I did things. I pushed people away so they wouldn't get messed up. He had a future waiting for him in New York and marrying me would ruin that chance. I couldn't let that happen. At least not then. I didn't resent him when he didn't say goodbye. We had said it, the night before. And it hadn't really been goodbye. It had been more like, "See you soon; I'll be here waiting." We never had the need to say goodbye. In the end, we were always together even when we were fighting and not "together". I'm glad we both saw that.  
  
When Deb called me and told me that she had talked with Sunshine, I wasn't surprised. I had sent him the ticket myself, to make sure that he was here for Christmas. I had been a little put out when he hadn't shown up for Thanksgiving, but I had figured that he was busy. But I would be damned if I let him miss Christmas for work. What I hadn't expected Deb to tell me was how thin he was. That she had felt his ribs. That shocked me. He always had a healthy appetite. I couldn't understand what had happened.  
  
Knowing him as I do, I couldn't think of a single reason why he wouldn't be eating. And I wasn't ready for the sight I got presented with when he came to the house. He was thin--his clothes looked like they were going to fall off him any minute--his skin was pale and his eyes had bags under them.  
  
When he started to pull away, I knew something was wrong. He would never keep me out of something this bad. Not when it had been happening for months. Even when he never came out and said it outright, he would dropped little hints that would tell me what was wrong (if I paid attention of course). What worried the most this time was that it was both emotional and physical and had been going on for some time. It was almost like when he got bashed. I had to find out what was wrong. Had to.  
  
He told me what had happened and I had never seen him this bad. I never thought that Sunshine, my lover, would ever fall this bad. He always had the strength to pull through anything. Or, at least, that's what I had thought. After he was done telling me everything--I pierced together what he had tried to say when he was crying--I understood. Completely. He had done what he had thought he had to. It's what I had done. But what he didn't know that I did was that he would eventually leave New York. Even before I knew all this, when I had been assured that he would become a great artist in New York. He would move on to some new place. He could never stay in one place for long unless it was Pittsburgh.  
  
I told him that he was sure of two things because it was the only constants through all the shit he has put up with. No matter the distance or scenery, he has our love and his art. I told him exactly what he needs to hear, that he needs to figure out where he belongs. And that it doesn't matter if he's with me or not. I know he forgot that or didn't even know that because it seemed to come to a shock to him.   
  
Well, now he knows and what will happen will happen. Except him going back to New York for a longer stay. I won't let that happen. He can go wherever, but not to New York. It was just not the place for him. I can see that. So after Christmas and New Years, _we_ will go back there and get his things and pull him out of there. After that, he'll be free again. I just hope he won't get it into his head that he doesn't have anything to prove.  
  
After that night, we had talked more and I had pointed out to him that no one cared if he was "independent" or not. He was all ready a man in everyone's eyes. He had survived the bashing, the hatred in his school, put up with my shit, fought Prop 14, proven that it doesn't matter who you're fucking. In so many ways, he was a man before he was 21. Before he was 18. He doesn't have to prove a thing. After all this time, if he's completely dependent on someone, no one will say anything. Because he deserves it.  
  
He's been quiet while staying here. But I know it's because he's thinking. He isn't sulking now. And yesterday, I got him to smile one of his sunshine smiles. I knew things were going to be all right. He's been round to see everyone at least once and even Ted can see that my love is better than when he first arrived. Debbie says she doesn't know who is more the miracle worker, him or me. He said that we both were because without each other, we both wouldn't be the way we are.  
  
Now it's Christmas and I'm glad I forced him back here. I came out of the bathroom from relieving myself and just looked at him. He's been sleeping so much. But it's just part of him getting better. I took the jewelry box out of the drawer and gently woke him up. He smiled at me and kissed me. "Morning," he said.  
  
"Merry Christmas," I said, handing him the box.  
  
He looked at me like he was going to kill me for getting him something, but I urged him to open it. He sighed and sat up. He slowly opened the wrapping and the box. He froze when he saw what was inside. I couldn't see if it was because he was in shock or amazement. He looked at me. "Is this--"  
  
I nodded. "It's the wedding ring. I've spent these last few months looking for the right chain. Something that just screamed you and matched the ring."  
  
He smiled. "It's beautiful."  
  
I took the necklace and he shifted so I could put it on him. "Italian white gold. Hand crafted in Italy."  
  
"Only the best with you," he said.  
  
"Of course," I said, "and only the best for you."  
  
He turned and shook his head at me. "Still unbelievable."  
  
I gave him my best cocky look. "Of course."  
  
He kissed me again. "Merry Christmas."  
  
"We have a whole four hours before we have to be at Debbie's," I pointed out.  
  
"Then who are we to waste it?"  
  
v^v^v^  
  
The way we are with each other, it's like we had never been apart. We picked up where we left off. We both still know that it probably won't be long before we're arguing again, probably about where I'm going after I leave New York. I've thought a lot about what Brian has said to me and I know he's right. I should've realized that. But I felt so isolated in New York, so far from anyone and I just did what I had thought best. I'm glad I took the plane down here. I had considered ignoring it, but then they would have worried about me more. When Brian found out about what had actually been happening, I wanted to bolt. But he made me see reason, like he always has.  
  
It feels great. I feel great. Now that I've gotten into a regular eating and sleeping habit, my appetite has returned and so has all my energy. And Brian even looks better. He looked like he had been on a binge when I first got here and now he looks like he always has. I'm happy. I don't know what I'm going to do when I move out of New York, but Brian and I have decided that for the time being--and permanently, he hopes, but won't say because neither of us want to say that for sure--I'll stay with him. Get back on my feet, get back into the swing of things.  
  
I can't wait for Christmas dinner at Deb's. I'm actually looking forward to it. Brian's present shocked me. I thought that he would have kept those rings hidden away until we both were well ready to retire from the world at large. But it makes sense. He pointed out, after two rounds of sex, that he wanted us to keep the rings to ourselves and put them in the box when we're ready. I never would have thought him to ever be romantic, but after everything I've heard from the guys, it makes sense. Besides, it's only one thing . It's a long way to go to being the man I want him to be one day.  
  
We're, of course, late to the appointed time for the actual dinner, but if I know Debbie, she'll have put it back at least an hour to give everyone time to arrive. We tried to get out of the house on time, but it didn't work. I think we're trying to make up for lost time. It's not like anyone won't expect any less of us. I don't know how many times we've arrived late to a meeting or dinner. It's our thing.  
  
While we're waiting for someone to answer the door, Brian tries to sneak a kiss, but we're caught. Only we're so involved in each other that we don't notice. Someone had to take a picture and that's when we noticed. Brian rolled his eyes and I laughed. He pushes his way in and I take my time. He's pissed, but he'll get over it. Hunter gives me the picture that he took and I smile even more. I don't think any one ever has gotten a picture of Brian and I even standing close to each other. Now they have one of us kissing.  
  
"It looks like the most natural thing I've ever seen," Debbie said.  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Brian said. "Is dinner ready yet?"  
  
"No," Debbie said. "You know better than anybody here except Michael that we open presents first."  
  
"Yeah, Brian," Mike chipped in. "How could you forget? Or did opening your present early haze your mind?"  
  
I laughed with everyone else and sat down on Brian's lap to make room for everyone. He wrapped an arm around my waist. "We didn't have sex all morning," I defend him. He tried pinching me to stop saying what he had gotten me, but I had to pick on him. He had been too nice to everyone in the last months to go back to being a cold hearted bastard. "He let me have enough time to open my present."  
  
"What present? His dick?" Debbie asked sarcastically.  
  
I shook my head and pulled the chain out from underneath my shirt. "Nope. This."  
  
Brian swatted my head. "You had to tell, didn't you?"  
  
I kissed him lightly. "Of course I did. It was too nice not to be shared."  
  
Debbie was examining it. "Is this the wedding ring?"  
  
I nodded my head. "Yep."  
  
"You didn't sell them?" Mike asked incredulous.  
  
Brian remained stubbornly silent. I spoke for him. "He said he didn't want to buy them twice."  
  
The room was dead silent. I think this is what happened when they received our wedding invites. Brain sighed. "You had to spoil it, didn't you?"  
  
I smiled at him. "Of course."  
  
"Will there be a repeat of the last performance?" Emmet asked.  
  
"No," I said, "because it's nothing that's set in stone. We'll probably just remain engaged until we die. And if we decide to get married, it'll only be when we both want to, not when we're scared of some bomb or because one of us is trying to make the other feel better. It'll actually be mutual this time."  
  
"You both will never cease to surprise us," Ted said, shaking his head.  
  
I shrugged. "It's something we're good at."  
  
"All well and good," Brian said, "but I really would like to get this done and over with. Could we please stop talking about my home life and just open presents and eat Christmas turkey?"  
  
"He has a home life?" Emmet asked, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"He does now," I stated.  
  
Brian groaned. "Just drop it okay?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "We better move on before he decides to leave. That won't make for a very good Christmas."  
  
"Speak for yourself," Mel said.  
  
We all laughed and moved on. It took an hour before the presents were done and then we moved to the kitchen to have dinner. Looking around at everyone and sitting next to Brian, holding his hand--under the table of course since he'd suffered enough all ready--I realize that Brian was right. I knew he was, but now it's real. I was so stupid. Next time, I'll put a reminder on my forehead to tell myself to never underestimate the power of my relationship with Brian and the man I've become.  
  
We're the first ones to leave because Brian was getting bored and irritable. He's human, but not entirely. He's still given certain allowances. As we're driving home, I can see that he's cooking up something. I should've known that I would never be able to get away with what I did.  
  
"Was it really necessary for you to tell them about your present?" he asked eventually.  
  
I smiled a little. "I had to tease you about it sooner or later and we had no time this morning."  
  
He looked over at me. "Is that so?"  
  
I shrugged. "It's just one more step to becoming human."  
  
He parked the car and we got out. "I could just take back everything and return to the cold heart ad executive and push you away again."  
  
I rolled my eyes at him and stepped up to the door. "No one will let you go back there. We've got you right where we want you."  
  
He unlocked the door and pushed me inside. "I'm just going to have to show you then where you're place is."  
  
"I dare you to," I said.  
  
He kissed me and we stumbled up the stairs to the bedroom. I keep thinking that with him it feels like this is the way that my life should be. Because when I'm with him, nothing seems impossible, nothing can stop either of us. And if and when we part, it won't be as bad as before. Somehow, every time we get back together, we change for the better. Even when we got together the first time, it changed us.  
  
So for better or worse, this is where I belong. With Brian.   



End file.
